


Magic Morgan

by TheCharleeMonstah



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, F/F, F/M, M/M, Morston Undertones, Multi, Pole Dancing, Reader-Insert, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29359686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCharleeMonstah/pseuds/TheCharleeMonstah
Summary: Stable Master by day, Erotic Male Entertainer by night; Arthur Morgan likes to keep both of his lives separate.  But when Dutch needs a new dancer, he recruits John Marston, who had been working in his stables for several months now.  Can he keep his little secret from his other coworkers at the ranch, including the resident shepherd, [Reader], who harbors a secret crush on Mr. Morgan?
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s), Arthur Morgan/Reader, Arthur Morgan/You, John Marston/Arthur Morgan/Reader, Sadie Adler/Abigail Roberts Marston
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. The New Kid

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is VERY loosely based on the movie Magic Mike, despite the title, and is much less dramatic. I just wanted an excuse to write our faves as erotic dancers... This fic is completely indulgent for me, so im sorry it doesnt cater to all audiences, but I hope you enjoy regardless <3

Young John Marston groans as he opens his phone, checking his bank account. It was payday only yesterday, and already his funds were down below $100. He’s been working in the stables at Matthews’ Ranch for several weeks now, and he just couldn’t seem to catch up with all of his bills, not including the child support checks he was meant to send Abigail every month. 

Matthew's Ranch was a decently popular attraction for families and school groups. Many people around the area would come visit the farm animals that called the place home. John had seen an ad online that they needed someone new in the stables. He knew horses well enough from his past in the country, that he was confident he wouldn't screw up this job.

And he was right, it was easy work and his superior, Arthur Morgan, the stable master, seemed to be extremely lenient as long as all the work gets done and the horses are happy at the end of the day.

It just wasn't enough. It isn't just a legal agreement, John wants to provide for his beloved son. Even if he doesn't primarily live with him, he still adores Jack with all his heart. 

“You okay, Marston?” Arthur asks, as he enters the stable,making sure everything was set for the night before leaving. “You been whinin’ to yerself all day.”

“Yeah,” John sighs, except he’s shaking his head ‘no’ as he finishes filling up the last water bucket. “Just… money stress, I guess. Feels like I can never make enough.”

“I understand that feeling.” Arthur waits for John to finish gathering his things before locking up the stable and offering the boy a smoke when they step outside, into the light flurry of snow. As John lights his cigarette, he can feel the older man’s eyes dragging over his body from the ground up. His heart skips a beat when those eyes seem to linger. “Kieran’s got the stables tomorrow…. what say you and I go fetch us a drink? Get a little crazy?”

Now his heart was racing. “Morgan, I just told ya, I ain’t got a lot of money. Especially for a wild night out…” 

“Drinks are on me then!” Arthur says, giving John a firm pat on the back as he puts out his cigarette. “C’mon, sunshine, I’ll buy ya a whiskey.”

Well, if he’s buying… what else could he possibly have to do tonight besides sit alone in his shitty apartment anyways? He couldn’t help but wonder what Arthur had planned, though. Why does he seem to be studying John so closely today? “Alright, man… where you wanna meet?”

“Aw, you don’t gotta drive,” Arthur laughed, pulling his keys from his back pocket. “Just cleaned out the pickup, plenty of room. Plus, with me drivin’, you can let go for the night and have an extra whiskey, eh? Now, come on!”

John doesn’t seem to have a choice. He chuckles, shaking his head and grinning as he hops into Arthur’s pickup. “Just what am I getting myself into, Morgan?”

“Ah, don’t you worry, Marston. Might have a side job for ya, if yer hurtin’ for money.” 

“Oh, thanks, I… I reckon I’d do just about anything at this point.” 

Arthur chuckles softly, “I’ll remember you said that… Why so desperate? Ya owe some gangster money?”

“Not exactly… My ex-wife and her partner raise our son. I still get to see him and shit but he lives with them, and I gotta pay my part in supportin’ him… kids ain’t cheap.”

“No, they ain’t.” Arthur agrees, lighting up another cigarette while he drives. He pitied John, he knew he was a good man, just lacking direction. He knew he struggled to keep a job, he’d said so once before. That was why Arthur stuck up for him at work, as his supervisor. “Hopefully this gig will work out. Pays well if you can cut it.”

“What exactly is this gig?”

“Can’t tell ya.”

“I ain’t takin’ a job blind…”

“I’ll tell ya more about it over that whiskey.”

* * *

It took about twenty minutes to drive to the bar from the ranch and when Arthur parked the truck, John was even more skeptical. “Uh, thought you said we was going to a bar?” He points out, hopping out of the pickup truck,

“We are,” Arthur assures, locking his truck and heading through the parking lot to what was obviously a nightclub, a line of people waiting to get inside a door, guarded by a bouncer. When they approach the front of the line, the bouncer nods to Arthur and allows him to pass with his young friend. Now John’s really confused. He barely knew Arthur Morgan, but it was starting to become very clear there was more to this massive, charming cowboy than meets the eye.

As the two enter the club, John can immediately feel the music pounding in his chest. Hundreds of people are crowded on the dance floor, drinks in hand and gyrating against each other under the flashing lights. The walls were lined with cage dancers and couches, littered with intoxicated party animals. Arthur directs John to the bar on the far side of the club, where the two of them sit and order a couple whiskies. 

“Morgan, where the fuck are we?” John shouts, over the music. His eyes are still darting all over the club, lingering on several pairs of bouncing tits before snapping back to reality and focusing on his colleague.

“Ah, just a place I come ‘round sometimes.” Morgan answers, knocking back his whiskey.

“You gonna tell me about this secret job?”

“See that girl on the other end of the bar?” Arthur asks, completely ignoring John’s question. He nods towards a group of young women, one of them wearing a tiara with a big, sparkly ‘21’ on it.

John turns and glances at her. “Yes, what about her? She got something to do with this mystery gig?”

“Maybe. You should go talk to her. Looks like it’s her big twenty first and she ain’t got nothin but other ladies ‘round her.

The longer he spent in this club, the more John felt like he was wasting his evening. “Maybe she likes the ladies, Arthur, you don’t know.”

“Now, Johnny, if she preferred the ladies, I don’t think she’d be lookin’ this bored. Now go over and talk to her.”

“I ain’t interested,” John huffs, “she ain’t my type.”

“Just trust me, Marston.”

Maybe this did have something to do with the gig. Even still, John hadn’t expected this job to be so secretive… He rolls his eyes and shoots back his whiskey before hopping out of his seat and starting off towards the other end of the bar.

What was he even supposed to say to this poor woman? He did tell Arthur he would do anything for the paycheck right now so why the hell was he being so shady? Just what was this job?

Just as John was about to turn around and tell Arthur to forget it, some drunken bastard and his loud, obnoxious friends approach the birthday girl and almost immediately cause a stir. This could be John’s chance.

He can’t hear what’s being said over the music, but the girls look very uncomfortable with whatever it was the party boys had to offer. Easy enough. The old ‘fake boyfriend’ act was sure to charm them.

“C’mon, baby,” fuck boy #1 says, as he leans in closer to the birthday girl. “I just wanna see ya in your birthday suit-”

“There you are!” John says, rushing up to the girls as the offending males start to look like they might get handsy. “My little birthday girl! Are you ready to party, sweetheart? Who’s your friend?” When John turns to the bullies, they instantly stand down and walk away. Just as he thought, guys like them are all talk and no fight.

“Sorry, Miss,” John says to the girls, once the men are gone.

“Oh, no need,” the birthday girl giggles, as Arthur walks up behind John. “Thank you for chasing those losers off!”

“There y’are, Johnny!” Arthur says, placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “See ya made a handful of lovely friends. Hello ladies.” His tone is seductive, making the girls all giggle as he tilts his old cowboy hat. Marston smiles bashfully, tipping his hat as well, to cover up the blush that was rising to his face. Between these scantily dressed girls with their eyes on him and Arthur’s sudden charm, his heart was racing. Trying to focus on the conversation over the blasting music is becoming difficult, while he desperately tries to keep his arousal in check.

"Hey there, cowboy," the birthday girl says, blushing and struggling to look Arthur in the eyes. 

"Havin' a good birthday?" John asks, after being nudged roughly by his burly, blond companion. 

"No!" She laughs, her friends whispering amongst each other and eyeing the two men like hungry lionesses. "This place is so boring! And the drinks are way overpriced… I just wanna get drunk for the first time…. Legally." She bites her lip, looking John in the eyes. The more he let himself drink them in, the more he realizes how long it's been since he’d had the company of a woman.

"Now, that ain't right! A young lady’s twenty first should be a wild one." Arthur sighs, pulling a flyer from his pocket and handing it to her before John can see it. "You ladies want someplace more excitin', there's a show startin' there in about an hour. Birthday girls get free drinks and uh, other surprises too."

John was trying to read the flyer without giving it away to the women that he was completely in the dark. He was starting to get nervous about the real details of this mystery gig. Judging by the scattered giggles, he was in for one hell of a night.

"Are you serious?" One of the birthday girl's friends asks.

"Oh my god," another squeals, clearly very excited about whatever was on the flyer. "We have to go!!! That looks like so much fun!!"

"Hey, you had me at free drinks, mister." The birthday girl laughs, standing from her stool. "Will you and your, uh… cute friend be there?" She motions to John.

“Oh, you know he’s gonna be there, sugar,” Arthur promises with a wink.

“And… will you be in this show?” 

Arthur’s lips curl into a grin as he takes off his hat and covers his heart with it. “You have my word, my lady.” It was then that one of the girls closer to John had snatched the flyer for herself and he could see what it read. 'Dutch's' was printed in flashy, gold text, followed by smaller text which read 'Erotic Male Dancers and Night Club'.

Oh.

John tries his best not to show his shock as Arthur butters up the girls some more. He would have never guessed that the humble stable manager was a stripper by night. Is that the job he wants to offer him?

"Alright, ladies," Arthur says, kissing the birthday girl's hand, "We'll see y'all later then. Don't you go flakin' out on us and disappoint Johnny boah."

The girls promised the handsome cowboys they would head over to the other club soon, bidding them farewell for now. Once they're away from the girls, John smacks Arthur on the shoulder.

"Dude!" Marston barks, his already raspy voice is beginning to falter from all the shouting. "You're a goddamn stripper?"

Arthur laughs boisterously as he pulls John by his coat sleeve towards the exit. "Goddamn, I thought you'd blow it for sure! But ya pulled it off! Not bad kid. Girls liked ya too!!"

"Morgan, is this side job of yours bein' a sexy dancer? Cause I ain't no dancer and-"

"Ah, I ain't makin' ya do nothin' tonight, boah!! Just come watch the show… you never know, Marston, you might like it after all. Plus, it's good money. How'd ya think I could afford that nice ass pickup truck and darlin' Bodecea's food and board?"

John took a moment to think as they finally exited the club. His senses readjusting to the outside world which lacked the explosive music and stuffy air. "Why didn't ya just tell me? Why'd we gotta come here first?"

"What?" Arthur laughs, digging his keys and cigarettes out of his pockets as they reach his truck. "You tellin' me you'd have said yes? Don't think I can't tell how much you enjoyed those women lusting over ya… imagine that but so much more… countless women all watchin' ya wind those hips, their panties soaked thinkin' 'bout all the things they wish you'd do to them. Showering you with cash and cheering for more of ya. You come see the show tonight and if you like what you see, me and the boahs will teach ya to dance."

Arthur did paint an awfully pretty picture… he had forgotten how exciting it was, flirtation, teasing a woman who he knew wanted him. The thought of dancing makes him nervous but what does he have to lose? "Alright, Arthur," John sighs, "let's see this show of yours."


	2. Dutch's Kingdom

“So, who’s _ Dutch _ ?” John asks, putting a mocking emphasis on the name as they pull into the parking lot of Dutch’s Night Club.

“He owns the club,” Arthur answers, parking his truck and grabbing a gym bag from behind his seat. “And he takes this shit seriously, so watch yourself in there.”

As they walk up to the small building, John takes note of how barren it looks on the outside. He assumes because of the nature of the place, they have to be discrete. “And you don’t take it seriously?” He asks.

“Oh, I do…but none of us take it as seriously as Dutch. He…well, you’ll see." 

When Arthur pushes open the front doors, John is immediately overcome with the energy of this place. It's nothing like he had imagined, in fact it seemed a lot more comfortable than some slimy-ass night club like the one they had just come from. John notices the big stage in the back of the room first, a long runway jutting out from the middle. Around the stage are nice tables and chairs, set with champagne glasses and floral centerpieces. He also notes the bar and DJ booth, the entire hall accented with black, red and gold.

"Damn," John chuckles, "You sure a guy like me fits in 'round here?"

"Trust me," Arthur replies. "We're a goddamn motley crew, you'll fit right in." He leads Marston over to the DJ booth, where a handful of men are gathered. Most of them were naked except for flashy, tight underpants. "Dutch…"

"Orthur!!" Dutch greets, cigar in hand as he turns towards the newcomer. "This the boy you was talkin' about then?"

"Yeah, this is John." Arthur introduces, then goes on to point out the other men. "And John, meet Charles, Lenny, Sean and Javier, the other dancers. And then our DJ, Josiah."

All the men nod or wave as they're introduced, eyeing up the fresh meat. "Have you ever danced before?" asks Javier, who is perched on a table, his robe untied and open, exposing his sparkly lollipop pattern thong. 

"No, he ain't," Arthur answers, cutting in before they all start questioning the boy. "And he ain't made any decisions yet, so let's not scare him off 'til after the show, okay?"

“Oi, Morgan!” Sean chimes in, disregarding Arthur’s request. “I know da ladies love a good scar, but dontcha t’ink ya coulda found us a lad with more den half ‘is face left?!”

“Hey, now,” Lenny laughs, smacking the redhead on the arm hard enough to make him wince. “At least this fella got all his teeth!” John appreciates the attention being steered away from the collection of gashes on his face. 

As the two younger men bicker back and forth, he notices Javier roll his eyes and Charles laughs softly before coming closer to talk with Arthur. These guys clearly had worked together for a while. It was like looking at a weird, dysfunctional family… of strippers. How would he ever fit in here, even if he did know how to dance?

“Don’t listen to them,” Charles says to John, pointing to his own cheek. “We all got our beauty marks. Besides, you’re just here to watch the show, right?”

"Yes, speaking of the goddamn show," Dutch butts in, "you boys have less than a half hour until we open those doors. I suggest you get a move on backstage and stop chit-chatting like little girls…"

* * *

John really wanted to stay at the bar to watch the show, but when Arthur pointed out the attention he might get, especially from the girls they had invited back at the other club, he agreed to follow him backstage. The young stable boy was in no way prepared for the chaos that had already begun.

The five entertainers and their gaudy, hot tempered leader all scurry about backstage like chickens with their heads cut off. Javier and Sean were at each other's throats over a missing Irish flag thong, Lenny can’t find his tear away pants and Arthur was off in the corner with Dutch, who was laying into him about something or other, pretty hard by the looks of it. John wonders if it's always like this before a show.

“Let me guess,” Charles sighs, suddenly sitting right next to John on the black, leather sofa and scaring him half to death. “Is it always this chaotic before we perform?”

“Well, yeah,” John pants, still trying to catch his breath from the shock of this huge and stealthy man appearing out of nowhere. He seemed to be the only fella with his shit together. “Didn’t reckon it was so much stress, gettin’ dressed just to take it all off.”

Charles laughs and pats the younger man on the back. “It’s not. Sometimes Sean just instigates to get a rise out of Javier for his own entertainment. He’s a good kid, just trouble… gotta watch him at parties, especially around the liquor. Javier always wants his routines to be perfect, so he's always high strung before a show.”

“Ah, perfect recipe for disaster for the ginger punk.”

“Exactly,” Charles’ laughter dies in his throat when he sees a rather nasty looking, blond man walk in through the back door near Dutch and Arthur. “You see that fella, John?”

“Sure,” John answers, his eyes focused on this newcomer, “Who is he? Don’t look too friendly…”

“He’s not…though Dutch seems to like him…” Charles’ voice was low and irritated, “His name is Micah. He’s a dealer. Don’t really know why we need another one, our DJ supplies us at a good price… If he offers you something, don’t take it…”

John nods and takes note of this ‘Micah’. He might be dumb but he ain’t stupid, he knew a rat when he saw one. 

Thankfully, Arthur finally came around to settle the arguments and help Lenny find his pants just in time for the show. Before John even sees the crowd through the curtains, he can hear dozens of people laughing and chattering, all waiting for Arthur and his gang to take the stage. Suddenly he realizes just how much pressure is put on these guys to go out there and perform. He finds a good spot to watch from backstage as Dutch readies himself. He had changed into a rather flashy suit jacket, dress pants, boots and a hat, red and gold on black, to match the rest of his kingdom. The lack of shirt under his jacket, exposing his built figure, laden with black hair, was surely part of the act. As the lights fade to darkness, the crowd cheers louder, knowing what they're about to behold.

“Ladies, ladies, please,” Dutch’s voice purrs over the speakers and the crowd quiets down, his presence under the spotlight captivating the eyes of everyone in the room. “Oh, and gentlemen. I see y’all back there, fellas, don’t be shy now. We got enough love here tonight for all of ya.” He grins, winking to the crowd as several people whoop and holler. Dutch starts to pace up and down the runway as he speaks into a microphone clenched in his bejeweled fingers. “That’s right, friends, we have quite the assortment of fine, talented gentlemen for you tonight. I know you’d rather get right to slippin’ those crisp bills into my boys’ thongs, but first things first we gotta discuss some rules. Now, can y’all tell me…” He runs his free hand down the front of his fluffy chest and abdomen, “Can ya touch this?” 

Some of the people in the crowd shout no, to which Dutch wiggles his pointer finger. “Right, and what about… this?” He turns his ass to the crowd and grabs his cheeks with both hands and sways his hips. Despite their excited cheering, the crowd declines once again. “Absolutely not…. Now… can ya touch this?” When Dutch turns around again, he takes his crotch in his hands and gives a generous grope, leaving little to the crowd’s imagination. This time, the crowd struggles to say no, their cheering becoming more and more desperate. “Very good, ladies and gentlemen. The law likes to tell us that you can only look, no touching…” He takes a dramatic pause, his eyes combing the audience as he smirks. “But I think I see a lot of lawbreakers in here tonight. Who’s ready to have some fun!?”

John’s gotta hand it to him, Dutch really can play a crowd. He was buzzing in his spot, leaning against the wall backstage. He could only imagine the excitement the audience was feeling. The boys were not about to keep their adoring fans waiting, especially after Dutch just played them up. As the lights go down again, Arthur gives John a playful shove and a wink as he leads the men out on stage in their matching, glittery black trench coats and fedoras. The smile he had flashed to young Marston had the boy shifting in his boots.

Just as quickly as they started cheering, the crowd went silent when the lights went up, revealing the five, colorful men, standing side by side in a line with Arthur in the middle. When the music starts, he leads them out onto the stage, a purpose in every step. As the beat quickens and they reach the edges of the stage, one sleeve at a time and perfectly in unison, their coats come off, revealing an all black ensemble complete with tank top and glittery black pants, held up by suspenders.

When the dollars start to rain, the suspenders get pushed from their shoulders, causing their pants to sag from their hips as they grind and sway them in a tantalizing motion, showing off the tops of their asses, framed by their matching thongs. That was when John stopped noticing the world around him. His eyes were transfixed on Arthur specifically. He admits the other guys can move too, but _ Arthur.  _ This was why Dutch had appointed him the head dancer. Those hips were seasoned by years of riding horses and dancing alike, making his moves strong and his body toned like a greek god. 

“Jealous?” Dutch’s scandalous voice asks as he approaches John while they watch the boys get low on the stage, the crowd rushing in to pet their heavenly bodies and rub them down with dollar bills. John was thankful for the dim lighting, his pants considerably tighter than they had been an hour ago.

“Maybe,” he answers with a sly grin, “Don’t think I’d be even half as good as they are, but… can’t deny, that money’s temptin’.”

“The money, sure,” Dutch chuckles, stepping closer to John and throwing his arm around his shoulder, a lit cigar laced between his fingers. “But there’s also all the women, or men, you could ever want, constant attention and parties, Johnny. You let ol’ Dutch know before you leave tonight, cowboy.” With that, Dutch puts his stage smoulder back on and heads out on stage to butter up the crowd for the next act as the boys return backstage.

Once the boys dissipate to get ready for their solo routines, Arthur grabs a towel to wipe the glitter and sweat from his broad, hairy chest before walking over to John. It took his stable boy a minute to compose himself internally, the sight of the stable master in nothing but a thong was already too much, now he was right next to him and still not dressed.

“Whatchu think, Marston?” Arthur asks. The insecurities and self loathing that John had witnessed at the ranch seemed to be nonexistent now. He imagines the attention from his fans helped that. “Think you wanna try your luck in the rodeo?”

With one last look out onto the stage, watching Javier out there alone at the end of the catwalk, women at his feet begging with fistfulls of dollars, John makes his decision. “Teach me to dance, Morgan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was just the prologue!! Buckle up for the real story <3


End file.
